Portrait
by Meany
Summary: Every victory has its price. What will the portrait of Salazar want for his help? PostHogwarts. WIP. Written in answer to challenge from HarrySalazar lj community. Slash. Explicit sexual content. Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1

******AN:** A romance story, plot is somewehre behind the curtains, but it is there. 

******Warning: **male/male graphical sex, NC-17, mpreg 

* * *

**Chapter I**

It was the greatest day. One where everybody was ridiculously happy, roaring drunk and crying out things like "You-Know-Who is gone! Let us drink for Harry Potter!" "Cheer, cheers! For our Saviour!"

To be truthful, this warm and sunny day of June resembled very much the Halloween night those sixteen years ago when the Dark Lord was banished temporarily by a small baby-boy.

The final battle was, of course, glorious. Of course, it happened on the Hogwarts grounds, and, of course, it happened, at the end of the seventh year, very near to Harry Potter's graduation.

The showdown itself was surprisingly short. As soon as Voldemort took his most imposing and evil-looking stance and opened his mouth to exchange the necessary scathing lines with his opponent, the Hero muttered something under his breath and waved his wand in a large vertical arch.

For a moment, nothing happened. Then the body of the most dangerous Dark Lord of all times and seasons crumbled to dust. Everybody was understandably shocked, and some swift-thinking DEs took this chance to escape justice. Thankfully, though, the majority was just as stupefied as the Light Side and was easily apprehended by the arriving Aurors.

Everybody celebrated. Everybody was happy. Everybody but the one and only hero of the day. The teen looked pensive.

He accepted all the congratulations with surprising grace and disappeared in the shadows a short while after the beginning of the hastily organized banquet.

The Destroyer of Voldemort now stood dejectedly deep under the foundations of the Hogwarts castle in a small and cozy chamber, facing the portrait of a middle-aged man. Harry still wore his battle robes that were singed and dirty due to all the fights he had to endure before he finally faced Voldemort.

"I see you've finally done it…" The man in the portrait casually remarked his pale lips smirking and dark-blue eyes glinting dangerously.

"Yes," was the only thing that Harry uttered.

"_Are you truly ready, Harry?_" the soft seductive hissing caused Harry's hair to stand on end. He involuntarily shivered.

"I've come to fulfill my part of the agreement. You have yet to stipulate what exactly you are expecting of me."

Harry was indeed ready. After all, it was _Salazar_ who helped him defeat Voldemort. Though being the original Slytherin and all that, he didn't do it selflessly. The sneaky portrait asked the young wizard to swear an oath to do a favor for the deceased founder. Harry naturally made stipulations, such as not harming his friends and innocents, but, nevertheless, agreed.

"I am curious… What is it that you require of me?" Harry repeated his question. "Do you want me to become the next Dark Lord? Do you want me to grant the Slytherin students the authority in the school? Breed a new Basilisk? Perhaps, move the Slytherin dormitories into some less damp location?.."

Salazar studied him with the same smirk adorning his aristocratic features. "All tempting, but no… _What I want… _What I want, for now, is for you to come visit me inside this portrait. Then we'll discuss it further."

"And just how do I do it?" Harry looked skeptical.

"It's quite simple, really. Just reach for my hand…"

Hesitantly, Harry touched the canvas and the next moment he was pulled inside. He stumbled in surprise and would have fallen, if not for the strong hands that supported him.

The green-eyed boy was shocked to feel another being's body warmth and breath ghosting over his ear. He looked up and drowned in the familiar smoldering eyes of the founder. The man felt so very real at the moment. The teen realized that Salazar was taller than him by at least half a foot and much more muscular. He suddenly felt himself lacking. How a portrait could have such predatory and wild air around him, Harry would never know.

Silently, he disentangled himself from the accidental embrace and looked around. He was in large room that combined in itself bedroom, parlor and office. And it had a door, leading… somewhere. He had seen only a small part of the room from the outside. How curious. He turned around and saw the chamber he came from in the wall-length painting.

"Take a seat, Harry," Salazar gestured to an inviting-looking armchair near the lit fireplace.

The young wizard did just that. He was nervous. He was wary. He never expected to come into such close proximity to Salazar. Harry knew very well how dangerous the man was. Would he be killed now? What should he expect?..

And the bastard seemed to enjoy his fidgeting. The dark-brown haired man sat in the twin armchair and simply stared at the boy.

The silence stretched and stretched until it became unbearable.

"I am waiting… What do you want out of this deal?"

"_Harry, Harry, has anybody never told you before that patience is a virtue?.. Why do you begrudge me some company? Let me enjoy it, while I can. It has being so many lonely centuries…"_

"_Talk!" _demanded Harry, his eyes flashing.

"Oh, well. The youth today… No respect for elders…"

"Are you quite done with the clowning yet?" asked the green-eyed teen harshly.

Salazar's face suddenly became blank and threatening.

"Very well, if you want it this way. Now, I presume, that you realize Tom was my last living descendant running around and that with his death the Slytherin line has died out?"

Harry kept silence.

"You do. What I want from you, Harry, is… an heir."

Harry started and mulled the revelation over in his head.

"You want me to become your heir?"

"Hm-m. You are worthy, yes. But no. While it is still a viable option, can you imagine an offspring who'll combine the best parts of you and me? We're both very powerful wizards and our children would be even more so…"

Harry didn't like the predatory look in the older man's eyes. In fact, he didn't like this conversation at all.

"But you're… well, dead! And we're both males! Are you insane?"

"You know, Harry, there is such thing as magic. It makes many things possible. Besides, the dimension inside this portrait has its own rules – my will. What I want to happen – will happen. So you should be prepared to spend the next nine or ten months here, with me. You'll give birth here, and then you would be free to leave. Of course, you'll also have to raise the child when outside, but I don't think you'll be against this part of the bargain."

Harry was grossed out and not a little terrified.

"Well, I guess I had to go and warn my friends that I will be away for a while…" Harry muttered feeling numb and standing up on the autopilot. He headed blindly towards the exit out of this _hell._ Before he could escape, he was caught, his back pressed up against the taller man.

Salazar leaned down ghosting his lips over the green-eyed boy's neck and hissing amusedly.

"_Now, Harry, normally I would trust the person to come back, not wanting to lose their magic. But with you being raised a Muggle, I can imagine you taking that risk… So, I'm afraid your friends will have to agonize about your unexpected departure… Can't be helped._"

"I would never…" Harry's breath sped up. He tried to break away, but Salazar held him firmly. The other man's hands ran up and down his torso and then to his head, messing up his hair… A panic was encroaching upon him, his vision swam and bells rang in his ears from shock… And suddenly he was free.

"_You are quite dirty, Harry_," said the founder good-naturedly. "Perhaps, you would like to take a bath?"

"I… Yes. Yes, bath sounds nice," Harry agreed in a daze, happy at the opportunity to be alone and gather his thoughts.

"I'll show you the way then. Follow me…"

Salazar headed towards the mysterious door. They came through and… How the hell was this possible? He was standing in the hallway of a pretty large-looking mansion. The setting sun shined through the tall stained-glass windows, casting colorful shades on the silver-and-green interior.

"How…"

"Magic."

Harry glowered at the wall in front of him. Why did he agree to this? Oh yes, Voldemort. If the ugly ass were still alive, he would have killed in a decidedly more painful manner.

* * *

The bathroom was all about size and splendor… But it was good. He felt cleaner and more refreshed and his thoughts were more focused.

He still wanted to cling to the hope that he would, perhaps, drink some kind of arcane potion and magically (heh) get pregnant, but upon seeing the clothes that were left for him to wear… He had no choice but to discard this naive thinking. Harry had to think realistic. The man spent quite some time in the portrait without indulging himself in carnal activities. At least not with a partner.

Harry sighed and bravely put on the indecent see-through pajamas. His hands were shaking. He hated it.

The wizard decided to be vindictive and put on the clothes on his still wet body. The already slutty material now looked even more whorish. He didn't care. If he had to go through this shit then he at least wanted the pervert founder to lose some of his aloof and cool exterior.

Salazar was waiting for him in the parlor.

Harry walked confidently through the door, mussing up his wet hair and asked trying to look uncaring:

"Where do I sleep?"

Salazar looked up from a book he was reading and his eyes seemed to scorch his skin. Harry wouldn't be surprised to see the mist coming from his wet self.

"Where do you sleep?.." the older man repeated the question, standing up from a couch. "Where do you sleep, huh? Harry, I know you are not that oblivious. _Tonight you won't sleep…_"

Harry suddenly felt faint. Was he really ready for this? He looked at the approaching figure and gulped. No. No, he was definitely not ready. 'Goodbye, my virginity. Sorry, Ginny… Guess, our dreams of hot post-graduation sex weren't meant to be…'

His inner ramblings were interrupted by a hand lifting up his chin. His eyes that he closed in panic flew open. And he was burning… He was devoured by the fire in Salazar's eyes.

Then he felt the other man's lips on his own. Pressing, moving, licking… The foreign tongue invaded his mouth, teased the roof of his mouth, invited his own tongue to dance with the other.

What else could he have done in this situation? He was the same hormonal teenager as the rest of them. Of course, he had responded.

Harry's hands out of their own will burrowed in Salazar's shoulder-length hair. It was soft and silky to touch. It wasn't enough. He yanked the dark-brown strands, forcing the taller male to stumble and their bodies to touch.

Salazar yelped in surprise and broke the kiss. But didn't move away.

"My, my, you're not behaving like a passive and confused little virgin, Harry. Why is it so?"

Was there a hint of jealousy in the blackened eyes of the ancient wizard? No, couldn't be. He was hearing things.

"_I think, Salazar, you confuse me with some blushing sheltered maiden. I am not one."_

"Hm-m. You always looked the part."

"Sorry to disappoint you," said Harry but there was no regret in his voice. He was feeling quite smug that he ruined the older man's fantasies. But seeing the thunderous expression he backtracked. Just in case. "I am still a virgin, though. So don't go sticking things in places unprepared."

Salazar's mood suddenly lightened. He would never understand the man…

"Is that so?" the founder drawled. "I can do nothing but to comply then. I'll just have to make you _very-very prepared_. I promise that you'll be moaning and begging for more till this day is over."

"We'll see," the green-eyed wizard growled petulantly.

"Harry… You really shouldn't have challenged me like that," Salazar's happy smile was ominous.

Uh-oh. Maybe, he really shouldn't have…

Salazar lifted his body in the air and threw over the shoulder. And did it like it was nothing… Harry knew he was not _that_ light. He was impressed, even if he would never admit it.

Harry stayed still while the man adjusted his weight and went out into the hall.

"What are you doing?" the teen's voice was deceptively calm.

"Changing the scenery. Or do you want your first time to be on the cold stone floor?"

"I don't care."

"Hm-m. I'll ignore that for now. You are just being difficult."

"Am not!" In Harry's opinion, he was being shamefully easy. Even though there was no point in putting up a fight, he, probably, would have been better off pretending to be a skittish little thing. But his pride wouldn't allow him to behave in such an undignified manner. Not that _this_ was much better. "And I can walk! You don't have to carry me!"

"Now, Harry…" Salazar's hand caressed his buttocks teasingly. "Don't argue with me. Besides we're here already."

The teen was put back on his feet. He resisted the urge to pout and looked around. Well wasn't that a shocker… They were in a bedroom. The large king-sized monstrosity with silk emerald-green sheets and silver pillows was the first thing that caught Harry's attention. His eyes widened.

"Erm-m…"

"Undress me."

The wizard turned to the old man… No, he didn't want to contemplate the age difference. Neither did he want to consider the fact he was going to sleep with a _portrait._ Why everything in his life had to be so… horrifyingly freaky?.. Fate?… Bitch!

"No 'please'?" Harry muttered.

Salazar just stood regally and stared him down. Now that wouldn't do it… Harry crossed his arms and refused to back down. Instead he glared at the founder heatedly.

"How is this going to work again? Why do I have to sleep with you to give you an heir?"

The older man looked at him incredulously.

"Hm-m. So you want it to be spelled out, don't you? Very well. First, I'll impregnate you in the most joyous way. Then you'll develop a womb inside your body and when the fetus grows, you will get a vagina to deliver the baby. After the birth all the unnatural parts will disappear."

"That… that certainly clears things up," all the traces of sexual excitement had vanished, and Harry felt sick. From the concerned expression on Salazar's face, he suspected he must have turned green. "Will the… the pregnancy have the same symptoms as it does regularly?"

"Hm-m. I am not completely sure, but I suspect it would be pretty much the same."

"I can't do it!" Harry knew he started getting hysterical but couldn't stop. Fuck his magic, he wasn't going to go through this. He was going to defend his virtue.

Salazar silently stepped into his comfort zone. Harry backed away. "Don't you dare! Why don't _you_ get pregnant?"

He was caught. Behind him was the horrifying bed. There was no way to escape. Harry closed his eyes, his body trembling. Why did it have to be like this? He…

He was being gently embraced, smothered with warmth and sympathy.

"Sh-sh… We don't have to do this straight away, Harry. I am sorry if I frightened you. I just never expected you to be so receptive. I see now that it was all bravado…"

Harry relaxed slowly. The scent of parchment and summer woods, that was Salazar, was calming him down.

"No, it wasn't false bravado," Harry broke away from the man and looked up to meet dark eyes. "Just the being pregnant stuff is finally getting to me."

The boy looked at Salazar and studied his features carefully. The founder was actually very attractive, he wouldn't go as far as to call him effeminate – no, not at all, but the face features were all straight and sharp lines, very classical. The model world would happily welcome such a face and body into fold. But it was so much more than the cold beauty of the Muggle-world high class. No, Salazar looked so much more alive, reachable, warm, _touchable_…

Harry didn't fight himself as his hand moved on its own accord to trace the older man's smooth jaw, straight nose, pale pink lips, arched black eyebrows…

The man stood still and let him explore. The ancient wizard was dressed in a white cotton poet-shirt and black slacks. Harry decided to take up Salazar on the offer and started unbuttoning the top piece. Slowly, unhurriedly. The air in the room grew heavier, his own breathing becoming labored. He tugged the shirt away from Salazar's shoulders revealing unblemished white skin of the sculptured lightly-haired chest. Who knew… The man was a god amongst men. Harry already considered Salazar perfect and yet more was to be revealed. Harry now understood why Salazar _requested_ that he undressed him. It gave him the opportunity to study and to have some measure of control. He was _very_ grateful.

The young wizard's hands kept wandering and stopped for a second at the waistline. Then he lowered himself to his knees and with shaking fingers undid the belt, pulling the trousers down. My, my, so the founder was going commando…

This was a mouth-watering view. Salazar's hard member stood proudly erected, long and thick. Leaking pearly precome. And it was cut. Harry didn't know whether this fact made him happy or sad. He never really thought about cocks and cock preferences before. But now he longed to touch it, to lick it, to swallow it whole. Harry almost came at the sight, his own length started straining the translucent white fabric some time ago.

He was going to get to have sex with this gorgeous specimen in order to fulfill his own debt. Merlin, he was ready to _pay _for this. Though, there was the icky part about getting pregnant. Shoot…

This unwelcome reminder broke through the haze of desire and prevented Harry from jumping Salazar's bones and rutting against him in the most primal way. Yes, he was that far gone. Somewhere in the backyard of his mind, the conclusion was drawn, that yes, he was most definitely gay, at the very least bi, and yes, he was a virgin, but a nymphomaniac virgin. But he didn't want to analyze these truths of the universe at the moment.

Harry stood up and met the eyes of the founder. The hungry look in the dark-blue eyes of Slytherin made his breath hitch.

"You… you're undressed now."

"_Sssstrip._"

His whole frame shuddered. Fuck it, but he was perverted. Why else would his body go through such pleasurable convulsions just at the sound of a sharp and precise command. And in Parsletongue too. Nevertheless, he gladly followed this _request_.

He didn't draw out the action and simply took off the pajamas. Military style. And waited for the events to unfold. All his limbs were tingling from anticipation, and some even twitching. If he had to stay still for a few more moments he was going to pass out from the pent-up sexual frustration. Still… He waited for the other man to act.

* * *

Salazar devoured the marvelous sight before him. He had known this would happen eventually, that all his sufferings of false immortality would be rewarded. He had clung to the thought, but with the years and centuries passing by, he had begun to lose hope. Even now he was afraid that he would suddenly wake up and Harry would vanish from his world like a phantom being.

The founder never expected the teen to be so beautiful… He traced the fine outline of the lightly-muscled body in front of him with heated eyes. It still had to reach its peak but the limbs had already lost adolescent awkwardness and gained that allure of the young flower which petals just started opening up. Fresh and untainted yet calling and irresistible.

The emerald-green eyes were rare and almost seemed unreal. Harry fixed his eyesight during his sixth year, but chose to wear the ugly glasses for decorative purposes. Salazar was grateful for that fact actually. It added to the teen's carefully constructed dorky image and significantly cut down on the admirers.

The combination of the brilliant eyes with the gloriously black perpetually disheveled hair was even more stunning. The unblemished skin was tanned golden from the summer sun. Harry looked dazzling really, like some creature from a fairy-tale that would disappear into mist if the onlooker made any wrong move. And all this beauty belonged to him…

The man stepped closer to the boy and was gratified with the widening of the almond-shaped eyes and a hitched breath. Salazar was joyful that the young wizard's body was so responsive to his presence.

He slowly wound his arms around the nude torso of his prey, squeezed the perfectly shaped arse cheeks and brought their bodies closer, their erections almost touching. He continued to massage Harry's buttocks but was interrupted from his careful seduction technique by a growl.

"You're such a cruel-cruel man, Salazar…"

And suddenly he was on his back on the carpeted floor, with a tongue stuck down his throat, his hips straddled and his cock pressing up against the body holding him down. The founder couldn't help it - he moaned. Again, he was glad for the teen's initiative – the image of Harry riding his dick in abandon flashed through his depraved mind – but for now this sudden aggressiveness had to be suppressed.

Salazar flipped them over and kissed the raven-haired beauty deeply receiving an equally passionate response. He stood up lifting the lighter body with him and breaking the kiss threw Harry on the bed.

* * *

Out of breath, the teen sat up on the springy mattress, supporting himself on the elbows, and looked at the founder intently. He even raised an eyebrow in a silent question "now what?". Salazar's answering smile was positively evil. Harry was already past gulping and just stared expectantly at the man, his eyes hooded with eyelashes.

The glorious body covered his own and Salazar sucked on his neck somehow latching immediately on the spot that made Harry moan and his arms reach out clutching the strong torso closer.

"Fuck… Enough… enough with prelude. Can't we get on with it?" Harry whined out. His heart beat rapidly and he wanted more. To be closer, to melt into Salazar. He lifted his hips trying to rub his leaking cock against the man's thigh.

The bastard ignored his plea and continued to hold him down. Abandoning the tender neck, he sucked on his nipple instead.

The torture continued in this manner for another ten minutes. Harry moaned and writhed in pleasure, all his feeble attempts to take the initiative and _finish_ it were ruthlessly deflected.

"Dammit… _Salaza-ar… Could you, PLEASE, fuck me already?_" The sound of a deep rumbling chuckle seemed to reverberate through his stressed body.

"Ah, and all you had to do was to ask nicely. How can I disagree?" Salazar stopped the ministrations for a moment and stretched his hand to the nightstand for a strategically placed bottle.

Harry sighed in relief, thankful and at the same time disappointed for this moment of freedom. He giddily reached his hand to his hurting erection that seemed to beg its owner to _come_ already…

Only for his hand to be slapped.

"Ouch!"

"Oh no, you don't. You are going to come from my touch alone, _Harry_…"

Salazar moved back to his position above Harry and made a show of coating his dick with the lube. Harry was watching the sight in rapture. Then the man poured the generous amount of the slick liquid on his right hand's fingers. The drops of lube fell down on the silk sheets, marring the fabric.

"Spread you legs," Salazar's voice was low and husky. Harry obeyed immediately. He was so crazed with lust that he would either come or pass out very soon.

The man placed the oiled hand on the inner side of the teen's thigh and moved it straight behind the balls, bypassing the erection altogether. The forefinger circled his anus teasingly and then pushed inside.

Harry tried to relax. The feeling was odd but not unwelcome either. It heightened the pleasure even more. Soon the finger was joined by the other one, and Harry winced at the sudden twinge of hurt, but the pain was so mild that it could be very well overlooked. The teen closed his eyes and concentrated on the sensations. Salazar scissored the fingers. Stretched him and coated his _insides_. The sensation was so _intimate_ that it made Harry feel utterly vulnerable and exposed.

The digits suddenly grazed over a spot that caused a spike of white-pleasure race through his body. He cried out and saw stars but still didn't come. Harry suspected that some evil magic was at play here. He wouldn't put it past this Slytherin.

"Enough! I am ready!"

The man just smirked at him but thankfully complied. He aligned the tip of his long cock to Harry's entrance and carefully pressed it inside.

Harry couldn't take the agonizingly slow pace any longer. He didn't care if he hurt himself in the process. He relaxed his inner muscles as well as he could and pushed himself on the member in one smooth jerk of his hips.

"Oh…" Harry groaned out. It hurt, it actually hurt, but the pain was inseparable from pleasure. He felt filled and full. He choked on the air and arched his back, trying at the same time to regain his breath.

"Silly child… You shouldn't be in a hurry…" Salazar whispered in his ear and kissed him languidly, mimicking with his tongue movement that was all too soon to follow.

The careful withdrawal stroked his prostate and Harry moaned. The small movements back and forth stretched Harry's walls further and soon the strokes became harsher, longer and quicker. It was indescribable and melted Harry's flesh. The pressure kept steadily growing.

Harry clenched his hands on Salazar's back, digging the nails into the muscled flesh. Another thrust from Salazar hit his prostate dead on and the teen cried out, his consciousness blurring in white-hot pleasure. His member ejaculated long and plenty, dirtying his and Salazar's stomachs.

The founder's stamina was astounding, he still kept going. Shifting Harry's arse higher in the air he continued thrusting. Harry regained his faculties and gazed at Salazar in appreciation. His spent cock twitched from its slumber again from the prostate abuse. The wizard was beautiful in his disheveled state, the dark eyes looked at him in passion and the face was contorted in pleasure. The man leaned down and captured Harry's lips in a bruising kiss. The hot wetness spread in Harry's backside, and he felt the invading him flesh softening.

The kiss turned gentle, and Harry wound his hands into Salazar's hair, his body relishing in the weight holding him down, the stickiness and the still filled anus. He never expected that sex with a male would provide him with such satisfaction.

Salazar moved his face away and lifted his upper torso on the elbows. The utter devotion and admiration in the older man's eyes made Harry's heart skip a beat and think that maybe it wasn't just happening because of the debt. Maybe, the founder actually felt something for him… No! The young wizard pushed the thought into the back of his mind. It was useless to hope and useless to become infatuated. Just sex, just for conceiving an heir… Great sex, though. With that memorable experience in his mind, Harry answered Salazar's gaze with his own – open and appreciative – and smiled sweetly.

"You're gorgeous, Harry…" the words slipped from the founder's lips and he himself seemed surprised by their sincerity.

The seriousness was not something the teen wanted now, so he replied happily:

"You're not too shabby yourself, Salazar," Harry laughed jovially and sat up in order to reach those red and glistening from saliva lips. A beautiful reminder of their activities.

The young wizard shifted their position so that he was lying on top of the older man. He sighed contently and continued on with the kissing. It was unbearably sweet. Just for tonight he wanted to indulge himself.

"Can we sleep like this?" asked Harry in an uncharacteristically timid manner.

"Whatever you want, Harry. I'll be happy to oblige," Salazar's smile was gentle and reassuring.

"Sweet dreams," wished Harry and continued to cuddle the warm body. His breathing soon slowed and evened, his consciousness blanketing.

He was already deeply asleep, when Salazar stroked his back in reverence and whispered:

"Who needs dreams, when the reality is so much better…"


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: **NC-17 for the description of male/male sex.

* * *

**Chapter II**

Harry was jolted awake from his dreamless satisfied sleep by a sharp pain in his lower abdomen. A small moan escaped his lips. Then the pain had disappeared just as abruptly as it emerged. But the young man still felt some discomfort that originated from inside his body. Nothing concrete, but…

"Aaargh!" the pain returned with vengeance and now Harry couldn't help but scream not so much from pain as horror, when he felt something twisting his insides.

During the night the lovers changed their position and the heavy lump of Salazar was lying sideways atop Harry. In his panic, the awoken wizard kicked the other man out of bed.

The founder was not pleased to wake up from the impact with the harsh floor, but he held his tongue, as he realized that there was something terribly wrong with his bedmate.

The slippery feeling accompanied by the shooting pains receded again and gave time for Harry to yell at the stupefied Slytherin.

"You-you… What is it? Is this your stupid miracle male pregnancy at work? You better do something about it! Now!"

"What are you feeling?" asked Salazar calmly, which infuriated Harry even further.

"My lower abdomen, back… I don't know. Shooting pains, both weak and strong. And like something's moving in my… Gyaargh!" the young man jumped a bit at another bolt of agony, and turned then on his stomach, hoping to ease the discomfort. "Would you stop it, please?.."

Slytherin climbed cautiously back onto the bed and gingerly caressed Harry's face.

"I am sorry. I can't give you any pain-relievers, they would interfere with the process. And, Harry? Yes, this is the male pregnancy I was talking about. Your organs are shifting and changing a bit. Don't worry, the pain will disappear soon."

Harry fought the urge to bite the gentle hand in spite and hid instead his face in the pillow, groaning miserably.

"How soon is soon?"

"Around 15 minutes."

"I'll hold you to that. Now go away, I want to suffer in solitude."

"Are you…"

"Just fucking leave!" the teen grabbed the pillow and threw it sharply across the stoic face.

"Fine," agreed Salazar and put the offending pillow back on the bed. "I'll be downstairs, making breakfast for when you are better."

Another pain session began and Harry closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, refusing to scream, moan or do anything as undignified anymore. He had had it worse during his life.

Finally, he heard the heavy door open and close and relaxed. Somewhat.

* * *

When Harry finally made his way down into the kitchen, more than an hour had passed. He was freshly showered and dressed into some pants and loose shirt, which he managed to find in a walk-in closet in Salazar's bedroom. Thankfully, his magic was working just fine, despite being inside the portrait, so he shrunk the garments and didn't have to make a spectacle out of himself flopping around in oversized clothing. Again. The Dursleys made sure that Harry would now rather go naked than wear clothes not his size.

Salazar had apparently already eaten and was sitting looking bored at the head of the table in a cozy sun-lit kitchen. The plate filled with some porridge-looking stuff mixed with fried potatoes and vegetables was put under the stasis charm and judging from the frozen in motion thin mist - still hot and delicious.

"Hey…" Harry didn't know how to start a conversation after his little temper tantrum awhile ago. He was a bit embarrassed and not just for one reason. So he just sat at the table after his lame greeting that was answered with a nod and proceeded cancelling the charm over the food. The dish had an interesting flavour, simple yet with some spice that he failed to recognize. The young man guessed the unfamiliarity was due to the centuries that separated the founder's style of cooking and Harry's own usual rations.

"That's good. Did you cook it?"

"Who else? And thank you. Do you feel better?"

"Yes, I apologize for freaking out earlier."

"Understandable. What do you want to do today?"

Harry haven't quite thought about what he would do not only today but during his whole stay with Salazar. "I don't know… What is there to do?"

"Reading, talking, walking, sleeping, making love, cooking, bathing - all kinds of activities. Perhaps, I should start with the excursion of my little abode?"

"That would be great, thanks," said Harry mid-chew managing to pronounce the words correctly but still gaining a disapproving glance from the man. Why was it that he just had to irritate this Slytherin, find ways to subtly irk him? It was not a sign of any rebellion on his part, but it brought Harry unexpected pleasure. And what's with the casually inserted "making love"? Was that an offer of continuing their affair?..

"Finish your meal first. You should know that from this day my mission is to keep you well-fed and happy," pointed out Salazar. Unnecessarily, in Harry's opinion. He would rather not think about the reason behind that statement. Not yet.

"Well, we'll see about that," replied Harry vaguely.

How will it be, he wondered, living with Salazar Slytherin? Their relationship up to yesterday was strictly business, resembling that of a mentor and pupil but more distant. Nothing personal was shared among them. And even now the only personal thing they had exchanged was fluids.

And so the Slytherin showed him around… The house there was quite large, but not as grand-sized as a manor. The building was two-storeyed and built up with polished blocks of dull-grey stone; it had rectangular shape and rather flat red-tiled roof, which meant that the attic lacked any comfortable space. Inside the house on the first floor there was a hall, kitchen, dining room, parlor, bathroom and the "portrait room"; on the second floor – master suite, guest quarters and a library, which Harry decided to definitely explore. The least he could do during his stay was gain knowledge. So far his studies with Salazar were one-track, concentrated on just the things that would help him off the Dark Lord.

On the outside the sturdy house was surrounded by mixed forest and in the front yard a fruit garden bloomed. There was a lake just about three hundred feet from the porch.

The sun was forever suspended in the position of a sunset casting orange and pink shades over the landscape. According to Salazar, one could go as far as five hundred away from the house before bumping one's nose into the canvas.

No wind was blowing, no bird signing, no animal - yowling or scraping. It was eerily silent, and the setting sun made the scenery look like it was the end of days, peaceful but infinitely sad.

"How is… I never really thought... Do all the portraits look like that inside?"

"Of course not," scoffed Salazar. They were standing just a bit further away from the garden on a still forest meadow. "Mine was created by a special artist…"

…_Eventually he had to abandon the Isles for the mainland. And another month was spent in vain sear__ch for Earlidove. The woman seemed to vanish from the face of the Earth. Each day that passed by brought more anxiety into his heart. If his aunt was right, soon he would be running out of time. _

_In the end, it was she who found him. Salazar was sitting in a dingy tavern, tired from mingling with __muggles and always questioning. _

"_You have been asking about me. What do you want?"_

_The wizard turned sharply and met with the unseeing pale-blue eyes of an elder woman. Her grey hair was long and curly creating a wild halo around the wrinkling face. Brown worn cloak adorned her thin frame, hiding emaciation._

"_I did. Are you Earlidove?"_

_Not answering she sat down at his table. "So what do you want, half-breed?"_

_Salazar swallowed this insult silently. "I want to commission a portrait. One of a kind…"_

…_She agreed but not without her own conditions._

"_I can do what you want, but there will be rules for you to follow, a chance you'll have to take…"_

* * *

"…zar?"

"Sorry, have you said something?"

"I asked if this was a real place," repeated Harry.

Salazar looked at him noting curiosity and compassion in the vibrant green eyes.

"Yes, it was where I lived before Hogwarts and a bit after."

"Interesting, I somehow pictured you, founders, associating yourself more with Hogwarts. Why did you choose it?"

"I didn't. The artist did."

"M-m-m," Harry apparently decided not to interrogate him further. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, the founder sat down on the grass and beckoned his younger companion:

"Will you join me?"

"Sure, why not," Harry flopped gracefully on the ground beside him and took his hand. This surprised Salazar.

"Harry?"

"You are lonely, aren't you? Has it always been like that?"

"Why are…"

"Don't worry, as long as I'm here you won't have to be."

A pair of soft lips was pressed against his own in an achingly gentle kiss.

"Are you sure?" the older man inquired not quite certain what he was asking about.

"Positive," fortunately he was somehow understood.

* * *

Their love-making this time was slow and exploring, quite different from the rush last night but no less passionate. Harry was so aroused after their languid kisses, slow undressing, and torturous teasing that he didn't pay any attention to the stiffness of the earth and the light prickling of the grasses beneath his bare back.

Salazar conjured some lube and prepared him at the same unhurried pace. Harry didn't object this time, but he was obligated to warn his lover.

"I'm going to come soo…"

The firm hand grasped the base of his leaking member. "No you won't… Not yet."

A wave of magic washed over his privates making Harry gasp and glare at the man above him. He was pretty sure what that spell did.

"Bastard…"

"You'll love this, promise," whispered Salazar and raised Harry's hips a bit to accommodate for the slow and precise thrust with which he buried himself deep into the relaxed hole.

"Gods!.."

How could he have forgotten how wonderful this felt? Or was it even better? Harry clenched his muscles a bit around the pulsing flesh urging his torturer to continue. And so Salazar did, slowly - thoroughly enjoying every move and every whimper and moan he drew from Harry.

They changed their position more than once and Harry tried the novelty of being on top, relatively speaking. It was bliss to look into the wild and darkened blue eyes while knowing it was his stretching and shifting up and down that were the reason for this, and realizing that he himself must have looked no less disheveled. Apparently, this was the last straw.

Salazar growled lowly sending pleasurable shivers down his spine and drew the younger man into a slightly less controlled kiss. Harry momentarily felt magic releasing its bindings but was too far gone to acknowledge this fact, he just continued impaling himself upon the hard cock with an increased pace. Hoping to finally…

But no, it seemed Sal-the bastard caught on and gripped his hips none too gently halting and slowing down his moves. He began thrusting deeply inside him, but these hard movements only weakly grazed his prostate.

"Sal!" Harry cried enraged.

"Sh-sh, just wait for it…"

Another kiss, another thrust, another stretch… Sweat rolled down their bodies, making the process even slicker and hotter. Feeling, they were finally getting somewhere, Harry tugged at Salazar's hair, withdrawing from the tongue-entwining dance and groaned into his lover's neck. Another thrust, another squeeze, just…

In frustration he bit harshly at the neck of Salazar. This caused the older man to lose that precise pace and slam strongly straight against the prostate. That was enough, the white shroud of enormous pleasure enveloped him and he tried hard not to black out from all the sensations, trashing and milking the also ejaculating member inside himself.

When Harry came to his senses, he was slumped on Salazar who was breathing harshly and he could feel the man's heart beating rapidly but gradually slowing down. The young wizard licked his lips tasting salt and iron. Oh yeah… He hefted himself on his elbows and looked up at the bleeding wound. Deciding to remedy the situation, he licked the red liquid off the alabaster skin, which was now bruised, and met the inquiring stare from Salazar.

"I am not sorry," Harry boldly declared.

The man just chuckled. "Brat… You better not be."

* * *

Harry had turned downed Salazar's invitation to share the magnific bath and opted to take a shower in the guest quarters. He was sore and suspected that the result of being naked in close proximity to the founder would not be just some innocent bathing.

Refreshed he entered the library and began searching through the shelves. Many titles caught his eye but the one he needed was not there. Not that he hoped to find anything about male pregnancy. He lived in the wizarding world for seven years and hadn't once heard about such a phenomenon. He was looking at descriptions of a normal pregnancy.

An hour later he found some rather vague information in a weathered book about human anatomy. The terms, however, were quite flowery and old-fashioned. Still he got the general idea. For more he would have to go Salazar. Harry sincerely hoped that the older man was not going into this affair blindly.

* * *

Salazar decided to give his houseguest some space and let him explore the library. But he was feeling quite fidgety, which was unbecoming of his middle age. He wanted Harry to be within his sight and, preferably, within touching distance. So after some pacing and staring dumbly at the roaring flames in the parlor's hearth, he caved in and intruded on the younger wizard's research. Perhaps, he could help.

"Are you hungry?" the founder asked after coming inside.

Harry seemed to shake himself from his deep contemplation over the large outdated book. Salazar didn't have to look at the title to recognize the tome. After centuries inside the portrait he could pick any book from any shelf and recite it. It all became dull after awhile, even his studies on magical theory that he dreamed about doing but never had much time during his lifetime. The founder was just thankful that after the first decade he learned how to drive his body into a comatose state. He would have gone insane otherwise.

"No, thank you. A bit later… I have a question, though. Haven't there been any other cases of male pregnancy in the past? Magic can do many things, after all."

Yes. Yes, there were. But the answer to this question was tied to the things he was not permitted to talk about. He had to lie… It hurt, he wanted to tell his Intended all about his life, why this was happening, what his feelings were, but couldn't.

"Well, there are some mentions of it in our history, but it is rare and, unfortunately, no detailed records of such occurrences were preserved."

The younger man sighed. "Fine, but you better know more about pregnancies than what is written in this relic."

"I do. Don't worry, I'll help you through it in any way possible."

"Alright. Can you recommend me some book to read? Something cognitive, I still consider you my mentor, and it is in your best interest to develop my magical scope so I can pass it on to your and _mine_ heir. I can do magic during pregnancy, can't I?" the teen suddenly sounded worried.

"It is not advisable to use spells and the like after the seventh month and brewing potions isn't recommended at all. Of course, you have to avoid any risky and heavy magic like rituals and chaotic arts."

"Ah, that's not too bad. So will you continue to teach me, then?"

"I don't see why not, but in measured doses. I won't allow you to overwork yourself like I did previously."

"Thank you," the green-eyed wizard smiled at him beatifically. "Should we get started?"

"Eager, aren't you?"

"No time to lose. Nine months aren't long enough to cram the lifetime worth of knowledge."

"Well, I did teach you before your coming here, and quite successfully, might I add."

"Not the same."

Did Harry just pout?

"Isn't it?"

"No," this time his Intended replied unsurely, as if questioning his own words. Perhaps, there was hope for them yet.

"So what would you like for dinner?.."


	3. Chapter 3

**AN:** My dear readers! I thank you for the support. I am not dead, just very busy and lazy at the same time. I finally finished the third chapter, and I really hope it was worth the wait. There will be at least one or two more, that will be written and published... whenever. Can't really promise anything with my track record.

* * *

**Wanda** , **Ciega Chica**, **Katsy17**, **bettyboop** , **LostRaven **, **RoxasIsReal13**, **fudgebaby**, **XD**, **Whiteinu1**, **Talia Gea**, and others, thank you for your lovely reviews. They kept me going and made me not abandon this story.

**Sayomi Mayako**, well, the setting is such that there will be no other characters. They are all alone inside the portrait, nobody is going to disturb them. That is one of the reasons I suffer so much writing this story, I am used to writing something more action and adventure oriented. There are some descriptions of pregnancy in this chapter, and will be more of them in the next one.

**Youhoo** , thank you for your praising comment. I also don't like the whole dom/sub strict categorization, though I do tend to put Harry on the bottom. But it's not all black and white in the world, or dom and sub as in this case.

**BrokenShards252** , Why, thank you. Though for the Portrait idea you have to thank a challenge posted on LJ community, but I am glad you like my humble implementation.

* * *

**Warnings:** Mpreg, M/M, Graphic sex, oral, NC-17

* * *

**Chapter III**

Harry hated his life… and Salazar. And he couldn't get over the illogical fact that _this_ was for some reason called morning sickness, but lasted all day long. Wiping the unconscious small tears from his eyes, he stood up and flushed the toilet. A tired sigh escaped his throat before he automatically rinsed his mouth and came back to the bedroom.

The young wizard observed lazily how the marble skinned sleeping body on the bed was illuminated by the ever soft orange-tinted sunrays and painted a warmer color.

After the first night, unsure of his standing with the older wizard, Harry fully intended to occupy the guest bedroom, but… His lover insisted on sharing the bed, both for sleeping and sex. He had to admit, that it was actually nice to feel the presence and steady breath of another living being near him, even if they didn't spend most of their sleeping time sweetly cuddled.

It'd been a month already that Harry spent trapped in the portrait. He was very much in denial of his pregnancy at first; he recognized it only with his mind, not his heart. That is until the nausea started. Thankfully, there was no hysteria or silent tears yet and the young man hoped that there would also be none in the future. However, he was now prone to avoiding and ignoring Salazar, feeling some unexplainable irritation towards the father of the fragile life growing inside his belly.

Following that thought, he glanced once more at the peaceful figure, felt an urge to do something mean, quickly suppressed it and disappeared into the library.

He was leafing half-heartedly through some of Salazar's notes on the nature of Magical Arts and their divisions for about an hour, when he heard a delicate knock and the sound of the door being opened.

"Good morning, Harry. The breakfast's ready."

"Morning. Not hungry," Harry knew he sounded petulant but he had to bleed out his irritation out in small doses. Otherwise there would be some unmanly, unseemly behavior that he zealously tried to avoid.

Salazar sighed and sat across him at the table. He touched Harry's hand which was clenched around the notebook, and gently freed the manuscript from his grasp. This caused the green-eyed wizard to finally look up.

"Seriously," the boy continued to insist, "I am not hungry. Maybe later…"

The founder's face was not angry or even exasperated, only divine patience and compassionate understanding were vividly expressed by his aristocratic features. And those emotions were exactly what irked Harry the most. Even though he himself was behaving oddly, he wanted to be treated normally.

Then Salazar just_ had _to sensually kiss his knuckles and continue to hold his hand in the gentle prison, pressed against the soft lips. He _hated _how his stomach fluttered in response. Accompanied with nausea it was a controversial feeling.

"Please? I prepared you some infusion to help with the sickness."

The pregnant wizard couldn't help letting a small smile blossom on his face. Yes, that was the usual routine now - avoid Salazar, wait for Salazar to come groveling and eventually give in. Then he was fed and his mood gradually improved. He spent this precious time talking with his lover and learning magic. Until the infusion lost its effect and Harry tried desperately to hold the so hardly acquired nutrition inside. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes not. But both outcomes resulted in his glaring murder at the man and escaping his presence. Stop. Repeat.

Sex was _so_ not in the picture. To relax Harry had taken to swimming regularly in the lake under the watchful eye of his supervisor.

The lessons with Salazar were progressing well enough, but the knowledge intake slowed down due to his occasionally gloomy mood and sickness. And Harry had to admit he was no Hermione. He just didn't have the strength and zeal to breathe through the library, be it light-reading or science. The founder was a great help, as he didn't mind translating intricate theoretical materials to human language. The younger wizard thought that with some more time and effort he would have been able to understand the main points of magical theory on his own, but time was exactly what they were limited in.

But Harry still tried his best to read. Even though he sometimes felt like his head was being loaded with bricks and letters were dancing before his eyes when he went to sleep.

What he regretted most was that the Chaotic Arts, subject in which he decided to specialize, was out of his reach. "No Chaotic Arts during pregnancy". He only could learn theory and train his mind and soul for the future. This branch of magic was pure creation and pure destruction. The raw power the practitioner potentially ended up wielding was immense. However, just the talent which he possessed as evidenced from the annihilation spell he used on Voldemort's soul, was not enough. Generating particles of primeval energy was hard, but still easier, than eventually directing the flow towards either destroying or creating. Destroying, of course, being less difficult. The mind of the Chaotic Arts mage had to be a precise and clean place, his soul balanced, and his magical core neutral - neither dark nor light. To perform even that one spell, that ended the Second War, Harry had to finally learn Occlumency and Legilimency. But he was far from being proficient.

He had such a long way to go. Mastering Mind Arts, training and stretching his magic to encompass both light and dark spells, waiting for his body to mature… Well, at the very least, one roadblock was out of the way. With the end of Tom Marvolo Riddle and all his soul pieces, Harry's own soul was finally cleansed from the taint and on the way to recovery.

* * *

It was well into the third month of pregnancy that Harry decided to ask a question that bothered him for some time.

"You know, I never cared enough to ask, but you being the father of my unborn child… Well… Why did you hate Muggles so much? Is that part of history true?"

The older wizard sighed.

"Somewhat. I actually loathed Muggleborn or Muggle-raised. Muggles I hated just by association."

"Why? Were you raised that way?"

"Hm… My father was a Muggleborn actually. That is pretty much the reason."

"Muggleborn, huh?.. That's new," Harry muttered under his breath. Intrigued and a bit irritated he abandoned his spot near the window and moved to sit across Salazar in the armchair. The fire in the mantelpiece was diligently cracking and spewing sparks.

"Please speak more clearly. You can start at the beginning, if you wish."

"Very well, I'll try to keep it simple. My father was of noble blood, his father being a knight to a feudal lord. He started learning magic only when he was thirteen by a wizard traveler. At the time there were no schools, and the knowledge was mainly passed down the family line. Muggleborns were more often than not left to fend for themselves, usually living without using magic, just as normal humans.

Dietrich, that was my father's name, was lucky to receive a willing tutor. So he decided to both follow his father's path by becoming a knight and learn a bit of magic on the side. His tutor didn't bother teaching him rules and traditions, just some useful magic and parlor tricks.

During one of the raids on the neighboring castle, he kidnapped a girl of an outstanding beauty, a non-human girl. In his arrogance, Dietrich thought to make her his woman by enchanting. Unfortunately, he succeeded. Merloin became his wife and bore him an heir. With the birth of this child, the spell of false love was broken. As you can probably guess that child was I. My mother was of high elven blood. She had a destined lover and a destined child, and Dietrich ruined it all. Elves are able to give birth to one, and rarely two children. She felt she lost her chance at love and betrayed her fated one, who hadn't even been born at that time. Maybe it sounds a bit melodramatic to you, but that is the way of the elven culture, and as they lived alongside wizards at the time, these ways were widely known. Had Dietrich being a Muggle or an untutored Muggleborn, he would have never stood the chance of wooing and subduing an elf. And had he being raised a wizard he would have known what a travesty his actions were.

My mother tried not to hate me, she never gave me an impression that she didn't love me, but she was always so very sad. She died when I was ten because of a broken heart, as cliché as it sounds.

So when we founded the school, I argued that we should also create some kind of orphanage for Muggleborns and extract them from their families while they were young or even as soon as they were born. Of course, that was unethical," here Salazar sneered sarcastically, "I then stated that in that case it was better not to teach them at all, as magic is not only spells, it is the way of life that has to be learned and followed. As you can see from history books, my second suggestion was outvoted too. The bitter part was that they didn't even try to understand my reasons; they thought I was too emotionally involved. And now I can see that they should have listened. It pains me to see a powerful wizard such as you, Harry, knowing so very little about our holidays and traditions, you are much more content celebrating Christmas, rather than Winter Solstice, playing wizard version of Muggle games rather than play and participate in rituals, which can also be fun, they are not all bloody as they are now portrayed – this view again the result of the Muggle World influence… "

There was hidden passion and pain behind each word Salazar spoke. Harry could understand where Salazar was coming from, but it couldn't be all that bad, could it? The blending of two cultures was inevitable in some cases. But… Was it okay to substitute theatre for cinema? It wasn't really - they existed both at the same time. Both arts had their admirers. And there really weren't' many options for Muggleborns to learn wizard culture, only through their mistakes, and he guessed that is what generated prejudice and made them second-rate citizens. Eventually they pretty much hang in a precarious balance, never fully embracing one world or another. But kidnapping Muggleborns from the cradle did sound a bit extreme…

"I see," finally said Harry. Salazar stopped talking some time ago. "I guess it does bear thinking about."

* * *

Gradually the nausea stopped tormenting Harry. He hadn't even noticed it lessening, but one morning he woke up and didn't immediately run to the bathroom. He considered this a happy occurrence. But during the whole day he felt fine, and it was… liberating. Exactly like how you learn to appreciate life and health anew after finally recovering from a severe fever. His studies have immediately sped up but in a week he ran into another problem. He couldn't concentrate on his studies when Salazar was in the room.

Harry had taken to a very bad and pathetic habit of spacing out. During these listless periods he stared at the founder when the man's attention was elsewhere. Sometimes absently, sometimes intensely. His gaze was drawn like a magnet to the graceful tall frame. When the young wizard was caught in the act he couldn't help but drown in the dark-blue depths of the founder's eyes. And only at the silently raised questioning eyebrow he shook himself from his daze and turned his attention back to his book for a short while.

He didn't even feel any sexual attraction during these spacey moments. If he did, it would have explained a lot. Well, at least for the first three weeks, he hadn't.

* * *

He was in the middle of his usual spacing out, when his attention turned to the tightly pressed thin lips and remembered how supple or insistent they could be. How they could leave burning chains of kisses on his body. How… He blushed and turned away.

He hadn't done much studying that day. Or the next. And it was getting rather silly. If he wanted to have sex with Salazar, he probably wouldn't be denied.

But there was some time gap and Harry hadn't been the one to initiate the contact before. But now… Oh, he now was perfectly aware that Salazar understood his behavior and his needs but decided to leave him the choice of doing something about it.

"_The construction of the diffusion spell is fairly simple compared to the previously studied group of collection spells. They are distinguished from other spells by the following characteristics: …_"

Blue fire, sense of intimacy… Oh yes, Harry was very much spellbound. What was the book talking about again?..

He shook his head and stared. Today he _will _make the step. So he stood up and sauntered towards Salazar, who was baiting him from his soft spot in the armchair in the library's corner.

The young wizard stopped in front of the man and waited for him to take notice.

Salazar awoke from the engrossing task of picking nails and looked upwards:

"Yes, Harry?"

The young man decided not to answer verbally. Instead he leaned in closely and rested both hands on the arm rests. The atmosphere got tense and thick, as he unabashedly examined the founder's features. One small move and the soft press of lips were the sparks that ignited the passion. Tongues battled with each other fiercely, and Harry to his surprise found that he was winning this duel.

Harry climbed into Salazar's lap and thrust harshly with his hips against the man's growing erection. Salazar's moan reverberated through his head pleasantly. While chewing lightly on the man's swelled lower lip, he unbuttoned the top half of the shirt and latched onto the jugular, sucking and licking the vulnerable spot, like there was no tomorrow.

Salazar was threading one hand through Harry's messy hair and the other crept under his shirt, caressing bare skin.

It was so warm, so welcoming in this embrace. But he needed more.

* * *

**WARNING! NC-17, SKIP THE REST OF THE CHAPTER, IF YOU DON'T WANT TO READ THIS.**

* * *

Harry slid down to the floor onto his knees. Salazar didn't want to let him go at first and held him in the tight circle of his arms, but, after a moment he complied. The young wizard glanced up at the half-shut lust-filled eyes and swallowed. He torturously slowly unfastened the older man's belt and reached inside the trousers to pull out the interested cock. Harry enveloped the head with his hand and gently stroked the wet slit. Salazar hissed and bucked his hips.

"Sh-shh… Patience, all in good time…" Harry whispered steading Salazar's unconscious jerking with his left hand. He lowered his other hand to the base of the member and leaned forward pushing the head into his mouth, carefully shielding the teeth with his lips and tongue.

It wasn't the first time he went down on Salazar, and certainly, not the last one, but the first two times there were some major hiccups. He wanted this time to be perfect. For Salazar to feel the same mind-numbing pleasure that he usually enjoyed when on the receiving end.

He pushed the cock inside up to his glands and withdrew, then went back all the while stroking the rest of the shaft with his hand. The bitter taste was familiar and not that unpleasant this time. He repeated motions again and again, already hard in his own pants. Salazar was muttering some unintelligible hisses, probably, in Parseltongue, or not - there was no meaning to them, but the young wizard was satisfied – it meant he was doing his job well. He unlocked his mouth from the shaft for a moment and began licking it thoroughly from base to the tip covering all the angles - top, sides, underside.

"Fuck…" it appeared Salazar was losing his patience, but he was still good at control, so muttering curses was all he did.

Harry stood up from his knees a bit for a better angle and fastened his mouth again on the rock-hard penis, taking it deeper and deeper each time. He stretched his tongue outwards and with a final push, the penis slid into his throat. He quickly backed up fighting the gag reflex. And once again, he captured the lubricated velvety length and forced it inside. It went easier with each time. Finally he was reaching the scrotum with his lips. Harry felt so proud of himself that he hummed, but it was getting uncomfortable and he was ready to back up to breathe and ready himself for another push, when Salazar cursed and forced him away.

"You're... getting good at this," said Salazar with broken and husky words. "Too good… So say stop, while you can, if you are against it…"

"What?.." Harry asked confused in no less husky voice which may have been also a bit scratchy.

But Salazar didn't answer. He stood up drawing Harry also back to his feet and then lifted him from his feet to lay him on his back across the armchair, with his head hanging down a bit from the arm rest.

"Em-m, Salazar?" blood flowed to his head and that was not a nice feeling. He glanced to see the upside down room and was met with a close visage of the familiar manhood. "Em-m…"

The tip nudged his half-open lips.

"So, Harry, is that a yes? Because if it is, then I am going to fuck your pretty and talented mouth until I orgasm deep in your throat, or… We can do it the old-fashioned way through your other orifice."

The younger wizard blushed. No, of course he didn't, it was just blood rushing to his cheeks from hanging upside down. Both options sounded appealing. One was a safe bet and the other…

"O-okay, I think," he agreed a bit timidly.

* * *

Bloody hell, how could Harry look so innocent and cute with his moist and ravished red lips? Hanging upside down from the armrest and his trousers obscenely tented and eyes looking cross and dazed? Damn him, if this didn't arouse him even more.

He caressed the boy's cheeks and grasped his head between his hands, pushing his cock inside the pliant mouth. After some small resistance he was in to his hilt, the pressure on the head was unbelievably tight and sweet. Harry swallowed, sending pleasurable vibrations down his length and driving him crazy.

Oh, damn, now he really couldn't hold back. It had been some time after they had sex after all. He withdrew and thrust back in; he tried to be careful but was slowly losing it, all his thoughts concentrated on going deeper to feel this wonderful pressure again.

* * *

What had he agreed to? Asked himself Harry silently panicked, when Salazar began to fuck his mouth in earnest. Hot damn, it seemed that taking this abuse passively was harder than actually giving head. It wasn't that it felt so bad – he really just had to keep himself relaxed, tongue - stretched and flattened and his gag-reflex - under wraps, see – not so hard! Who was he kidding, it was fucking bloody difficult, but he was getting used to it. This feeling of the man's cock driving deep into another whole different kind of intimate area was thrilling. He wouldn't mind to see the man's face at the moment, but was reduced to watching Salazar's balls slapping him occasionally on the face. Somehow, Harry couldn't find it in himself to mind this treatment. It was good. It was awesome to feel the orgasmic convulsion and the following ejaculation in his throat. His own orgasm caught up to him unexpectedly, lighting flash-bulbs in his eyes and making him gasp around the member. He opened his eyes and sucked, drawing the remainders of sperm from the shaft. Salazar stilled but showed no motion of drawing his cock out. Harry pushed weakly with his arms against the founder's legs. And heard a crash.

Finally free, Harry sat up and turned to look. Salazar, the proud and fearsome founder, was sitting bare-assed on the floor, the trousers still around his ankles, with the dumbest look on his face. Evidently, the brains can be sucked out through the head.

The green-eyed wizard laughed, then coughed. His throat was really sore.

"Well, I can't say I am going to repeat this performance anytime soon, but it was worth it just to see you like this."

Salazar shook himself out of the daze with difficulty and stood up fixing his trousers. He kneeled before the younger man drawing him into embrace and gently kissing. Harry's lips tingled strongly from this soft kiss, they were now really sensitive.

They continues to kiss for some time languidly, Harry couldn't say exactly how long, so lost he was in the feeling of tender warmth and security.

"Thank you, Harry. I don't think I have to comment, but it was mind-fucking good."

Harry smiled slyly.

"I think you were going for 'mouth-fucking' good."

"Brat…"


End file.
